Tabula Rasa
by Pawpels
Summary: Minor divergences in which some of the moments in Numeric were written for the express purpose of furthering Chloé's character development. Adrien Agreste and Chloé Bourgeois examine their shared past while trapped together in the void.
"Argh! " she cried, stomping through the blank nothingness, "I still can't reach daddy! Why isn't their signal here? It's ridiculous!"

They stopped short—he first, and she following his example.

"It stretches endlessly. No doors, no walls. Nothing at all," he mused, setting his hands on his hips and looking around.

"You mean we're stuck here?" She grabbed his arm and held it tightly, a look of genuine fear on her face. Quickly, though, that expression melted into one of devious lust. " Just… Just the two of us?" She smiled, and batted her eyelids, loosening her vice grip, but not releasing his arm. As he turned to her, he found her already snuggled into his chest, just as she was so oft to do at school, or any other inappropriately public place.

"You can drop the act, Chloé."

"What?" she asked, completely startled by his sudden change in demeanor. She tried to laugh the comment off with a forced, "Act? What act?" and a dismissive wave of her hand, but he persisted.

"We're alone, Chloé. No one can see us. You don't have to do this," he stated firmly enough that she complied—taking a few steps away from him—but not gently enough that she looked anything but terrified by his assertion.

"How did you know I was acting?" she asked bluntly, every shred of her flirtatious personality shed from her like an immense cloak that, with a great flutter, had fallen from her shoulders and now lay pooled about her feet.

"Chloé, please," he chuckled in all seriousness, " I've known you since kindergarten. You've never had a crush on me, and you never will."

She couldn't deny this—try as she might to form the words—so he continued.

"You remember it, don't you?" She remembered. "I had such a crush on you as a child. I bet you don't remember." She remembered. "I loved you like you were the sun." She remembered. "But you didn't fancy me in the least…." She remembered. "When I asked you out, you said—"

"That you'd only get your heart broken again and again in life, so you might as well start getting used to it," she remembered, only this time aloud.

"Yeah," he grinned, "Just like that."

"You asked me out again a year later, you know…" she stated.

"And then again a year or two after that," he added.

"You really loved me, didn't you?" she wondered, not expecting an answer. He didn't supply one.

She continued, "That was about the time you started modeling, wasn't it?" He nodded. "We started seeing less of each other after that."

The thought hadn't occurred to him previously, but he had to agree that it was true. They hadn't seen each other constantly before then, but once Adrien started focusing on his career, their meetings had grown more and more infrequent.

"Did you think about me then? During your photo shoots?"

In truth, the answer was "No, of course he hadn't." He'd been trained to be singularly focused on each project—there existed nothing but photographer, model, and concept, working as one—but he hesitated long enough that she continued before he could supply his response.

"I thought about you all the time," she began, "I missed you, even." As she spoke, she averted her eyes further and further from his gaze, until the space between them felt wider and emptier than the nothingness that surrounded them, "That… That was the first time in my life I've ever been jealous."

"Of who?" he asked, genuinely surprised by her confession.

"Everyone. Every pretty model that you worked with. Ever girl you talked to. I hated them."

"But, why?"

"Because they were monopolizing your time. Because I was afraid… I was so afraid you'd meet some beautiful girl and you'd fall so in love with her you wouldn't have time for me anymore. I was afraid of losing you."

"That's silly," he began, but she cut him off.

"Why did you love me?" she asked, getting right up in his face. This time, it was his turn to look away. He blushed sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck as he spoke.

"Because you were strong… confident… funny… You were the most amazing girl I'd ever met."

"I was the _only_ girl you'd ever met, Adrien," she corrected, "You wouldn't have loved me if you'd met anyone else. You would even have liked me."

"That's not—"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me that's not true."

He met her gaze once again, as she struggled to keep it locked with his. He was at a loss for words.

"I'm not nice," she said, "I'm not a good person—I never was. I was afraid when you met someone who loved you back, you'd abandon me for good. You wouldn't want to be my friend anymore, and then I'd have no one. That's why I started flirting with you. If I couldn't have you on my terms, maybe I could have you on yours. If I couldn't keep you in platonic limbo, maybe I could keep you in that cheesy romance you wanted so badly."

"Chloé—"

"It's stupid, isn't it?" she collapsed to the ground, and buried her head in her hands. "Why did I think I could win you back that way?"

"Because you underestimated how well I know you," he replied, although the question had been rhetorical in nature. "Look," he said, kneeling beside her, "I didn't realize you were jealous. I really didn't. I thought you were still trying to convince your father, so I brushed you off—but I always knew your fawning wasn't genuine. We'll always be friends, I promise, but I've long since gotten over you, and you've never once been interested in me. Besides," he grinned, "I believe there's a certain Ladybug who really has your heart, isn't there?"

"B-but how did you know that?" she queried, feeling quite small.

He smiled, catching her eye as he spoke. "We always fall for the same girls, remember?"

She was stunned once again.

"How long have you known?"

"First grade. I overheard your father shouting at you for kissing that pretty brunette at the banquet," he mused almost wistfully, "I liked her too, but you won her over. "

"But the next one… the lobbyist's daughter… she liked you."

"It was back and forth like that for a while, I think," he smiled once again, rising and extending his hand to help her up. "Even now, we're fighting for Ladybug's attention, aren't we? I guess that makes us competitors, now and forever."

She blinked at him—once, twice, three times—and then she accepted his hand and resumed her haughty air that she had, for the past few minutes completely discarded.

"Well, I don't mean to brag, but if you want to compete for Ladybug's affections, I think I have the edge. She did save my life, after all. She saves me all the time. She's very attached to me, you know."

"I wouldn't doubt it," Adrien said, chuckling at his oldest friend, "You have a lot in common. You're both strong, confident, funny…" he sighed as he mumbled, "The most amazing girls I've ever met."

"What was that?" she asked, picking up her phone to dial again.

"Oh, nothing," he replied, "I was just thinking about how nice it is to have friends."


End file.
